


Milk and Honey

by Jaydee_Faire



Category: Final Fantasy Tactics
Genre: Bonding, Dreams and Nightmares, Fluff, Gen, occurs somewhere between rescuing Argath and the battle at Dorter, warm milk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-11
Updated: 2018-07-11
Packaged: 2019-06-08 15:15:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 824
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15246129
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jaydee_Faire/pseuds/Jaydee_Faire
Summary: Argath can't sleep; Ramza offers an old remedy.





	Milk and Honey

They wouldn't have been able to find milk at all, save for that they'd camped very near to a farming settlement on the plains, and it was a tricky thing to balance the battered tin cup over the campfire, but Ramza seemed to be managing it with a long pair of tongs he'd taken from the blacksmith's tent. Argath watched, crouched on a rock, as the milk bubbled and began to foam in the heat. 

"I hadn't meant for you to go through all this trouble," Argath said. "I thought, since you said you were dabbling in black magic, that you could just--" he waved a hand. "Spell me to sleep."

"The spell only lasts a few moments, Argath." Ramza swirled the milk so that it wouldn't foam over. "I'd have to stand over you all night, while you got a night's sleep in sixty-second increments. This is simpler. And more pleasant, I would think," he added with a smile. "Haven't you had warmed milk at night before?"

"My mother used to make it." Argath cleared his throat uncomfortably. "But only if I were ill. And..."

"And?"

"And she usually stirred honey into it," Argath mumbled.

"Well. That can be arranged," Ramza said. "Some of the white mages carry honey. And I know Rothford has a jar he uses for his tea in the mornings. Shall I go and ask?"

Argath shook his head, face heating. "N-no, you've-- you've already been very kind, thank you. I shall take it plain."

"You'll have to share with me, then. Now that I've made it, I find I'm craving the taste of it." Ramza took the cup off the fire. "Your mug?"

Argath passed it over, and watched the firelight move on Ramza's face as he went about the strangely domestic task of portioning out mugs of warm milk for the both of them. "You haven't asked," he said after a time.

Ramza didn't look up from his task. "Haven't asked what? Here." He offered the full mug.

Argath looked down at his hands, now wrapped around his mug, making a circle around a pool of white turned yellow by the light of the fire. Distantly, one of the men on guard laughed. "What is keeping me from sleeping," he said.

"I had thought it my business only as far as remedying it," Ramza shrugged.

"I hadn't told you," Argath said, "because-- because I thought--" he took a breath. "Nightmares plague me. Sour dreams of finding the Marquis dead, and my hopes of redeeming my family's name with him. Or worse, facing the men who took him and remaining rooted to the spot in terror, unable to act. I fear to even close my eyes anymore lest I see myself a failure or a coward again."

"Any man would be anxious on a mission where so much hangs in the balance," Ramza said. "And no man is less of one for his mind running amok at night. Everyone has unsettled dreams sometimes."

"I had thought you would think less of me," Argath said, eyes down. "Knowing that I start up in bed weeping like a maid in the night."

"No, never," Ramza reassured him. "You know Delita and I think very highly of you. Weren't you prepared to hold off an entire troupe of bandits on your own before we found you at Mandalia? I cannot think of anything braver, standing up against those odds. We cannot help what comes for us in our dreams."

Argath pursed his lips. "I suppose so." The heady smell of the milk was lulling him; he lifted his mug and drank. Immediately he thought of home, of laying feverish and sick in bed and reaching to take a steaming mug from his mother's slender hands. He drank again, swallowing too fast and burning his tongue trying to banish the lump in his throat. 

"Drink it slowly," Ramza said. "Soon you'll be back on your bedroll, sleeping as soundly as Delita."

Argath glanced up. "Does nothing wake that boy?"

"The smell of bacon cooking," Ramza laughed, "and then only sometimes. He nearly slept through an exam at the Akademy, and there was nothing, nothing I could do to wake him. I was about to roll him into a wheelbarrow and tote him to class like a sack of grain when he finally stirred and asked what all the racket was."

"I can only hope to sleep half as well as that," Argath chuckled. "Though I pray not to wake as groggily as he does."

"Nor as grumpily," Ramza grinned. "Worry not. I've never seen this remedy fail. And as for the Marquis," he lifted his chin. "You won't be fighting alone. Delita and I will be with you, and Rothford and Amelia besides. We'll find him together."

"Yes." Argath's smile was softer this time. "...Thank you, Ramza."

"I am your friend, Argath," Ramza said. "And is that not what friends are for?"

**Author's Note:**

> visit me on tumblr @cyberphuck!


End file.
